


#18 Untouchable

by i am only revolutions (onashtreelane)



Series: Glimpses [3]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: First Time, M/M, Masterbation, Mutual Masturbation, Porn, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-29 06:28:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1002065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onashtreelane/pseuds/i%20am%20only%20revolutions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>These will generally be very short glimpses into these boys' life. It's my head canon, in little flashes. These come from an old prompt table I completed years ago, and a totally different fandom. As such, they won't be in chronological order. Eventually I will post a page with links to the fics in order.</p>
<p>This one's for my wonderful partner (and Beta) who swore he'd never write Cockles with me.</p>
<p>XOXOX</p>
    </blockquote>





	#18 Untouchable

**Author's Note:**

> These will generally be very short glimpses into these boys' life. It's my head canon, in little flashes. These come from an old prompt table I completed years ago, and a totally different fandom. As such, they won't be in chronological order. Eventually I will post a page with links to the fics in order.
> 
> This one's for my wonderful partner (and Beta) who swore he'd never write Cockles with me.
> 
> XOXOX

Misha sinks down on the couch. He's on location and though the cast and crew are awesome people, part of him longs for his own bed. He settles back into the soft cotton pillows with a sigh. It's just about bed and time for a little stress relief. He leans over and grabs the magazine hidden under one cushion.

He grins down at the magazine's title, "Otterly Fantastic," and flips to a dog-eared page.

"I can't believe this page isn't sticky yet," he mutters, eyes scanning a two page spread of a fit, lightly muscled man. The model's green eyes glare directly back at the camera. His ash brown hair is in messy spikes.

Slowly, Misha slips his hand under the band of his boxers, finding himself semi-hard. He gives his cock a couple lazy strokes from root to tip and moans softly.

There's a knock. Jensen walks in without waiting for Misha's answer. Like a teenager caught with his pants down, Misha shoves the porno mag under couch and adjusts his shorts. His face feels flush, even his ears burn. He curses at himself for forgetting to lock up.

"Hey, Jen," Misha starts, trying for casual and only sounding louder than usual. "What's up?" He groans inwardly, and bites back a laugh at his unintentional pun. Should he cross his legs or--he hasn't hidden a boner since grade ten math class.

Even though there are two other chairs free, Jensen takes a seat on the small couch, right next to Misha. He turns slightly, not mentioning the underwear, and stretches his arm along the back of the sofa. "Been meaning to talk to you," Jensen says, his eyes narrowed and brows drawn low.

Misha brings his knees together. "I'm listening."

"What was it like?" Jensen blurts out, after a moment of silence.

Misha blinks. "Pardon? What was what like?"

Jensen's eyes float down for a moment, and then back up. "I read your wife's book."

"Oh--ah--I see." Misha straightens, ready to get up and walk away.

"Did you like it?" Jensen asks, and this time it's his face that reddens.

Misha nods, his spine relaxing. He's not ashamed of his sexuality, but this is the first time Jensen's acknowledged it. "Yes, actually."

Jensen looks away. "Just you and two girls? Or--?"

"Jen," Misha pauses, choosing his words carefully, "you read it. We tried just about every combination of three-ways we could think of. Even some without my wife." Misha's cock twitches gently at the memory.

Jensen leans over, nudging a flip-flopped foot against whatever is sticking from underneath the couch. The hastily stowed magazine slides free. Misha hadn't even bothered to close it.

"Otterly Fantastic? What the hell is this?" Jensen asks, amused. He looks over at Misha, eyebrows raised.

"Otters are what twinks grow up to be," Misha explains, unable to help his smirk. He runs a hand through his hair. "I assume you know what a twink is."

Jensen's blush darkens. "Yeah, I--I've heard the word."

He opens the magazine back to the dog-eared page. There's a long, awkward pause as Jensen's eyes travel up and down the two pages.

Misha can't stand the silence any longer. "This isn't what it looks like. I'm not a creeper, I swear, Jen."

Jensen's head comes up, eyes wide, recognition behind them. He looks back to the pages in his lap and to Misha again, gaze zeroing in on the underwear.

Finally Jensen hands back the magazine. "Don't let me stop you."

"What?" Despite everything, Misha's cock begins to wake up again. "Jensen, have you been drinking?"

Unexpectedly, Jensen barks out a laugh. "No. Not a drop."

"Well, I'm not going to do this by myself," Misha looks right at him, putting the offer out there. There's no way Jensen won't bail.

Jensen shrugs. "Okay."

Misha's smile is instant--almost too willing, he's sure. He ducks his head quickly and spits into his palm before the chance can disappear. His hand goes lower, and Misha groans at the contact. Almost immediately, the hard head of his cock peeks out from the band of his boxers.

Jensen licks his lips and glances away, fiddling with the buttons on his own jeans. He spits too, eyes firmly on the porn spread before him. His groan comes from between clenched teeth.

Misha doesn't need the magazine anymore. He watches the roll of Jensen's arm and the quickening rhythm inside the man's jeans. Misha can't see much else, and is a little saddened by that, but--Jensen bites his lower lip, grinding his palm into his groin. When he gasps, Misha moans in unison.

Jensen looks over at Misha, realizing that he's being watched. Misha tenses, sure this is how it will end, but it isn't. Jensen's eyes are now glued to Misha's groin.

Misha slows his pace. He reaches down with his other hand to cup his balls, and Jen grunts in response, the muscles in his arm working harder.

"Do you want to watch?" Misha asks, breathy.

Jensen nods, panting.

Misha beams and pushes his boxers low. He strokes steadily now, no more teasing. The weight of Jen's eyes on him and Jen's rough, uneven breathing--it's too much. Misha stills his hand and stares openly at the man beside him as he comes. His balls tighten and warmth splashes up his body, but he doesn't look away. He is going to memorize everything.

Jensen whimpers, hips bucking, and the sight of Misha's orgasm pushes him over. He throws back his head.

Finally Misha makes himself look away.

In silence, both men gaze at the ceiling.


End file.
